One Kiss, One Hundred Realizations
by Punky Monkey
Summary: It's not all on the kiss.I got romantic, heroic Japanese myths for this.It's a lengthy&well-written&unique BV's 1st kiss--a day before the androids.Vegeta is alone. Bulma is worried. They come together and realize their special love in a passionate kiss.


Disclaimer: I do not own dbz or make any money off of it. There would be a lot more adult content in the series if I did ^__~.  
  
A/N: Oh, and um, this is my second piece of fanfiction that I am working on (the first one failed, though), and is my first B/V, so please specifically let me know what sucks (mistakes included), and I will try to improve it.  
  
This will be three chapters (one in Vegeta's POV through it all up until the love part (which I call the info/intellectual/mystery part) and then in Bulma's, then both in the kissing and romancin'), and if people like it, I'll be glad to make a sequel. The sequel will probably be out later than expected since I am very busy.  
  
Oh, and myths, places, and the like will be made up.  
  
I also want to say I will be waiting to hear from Temepst12, Marci, Lisalu, Vegeta Goddess, Chichi, and WeaverOfDreams and the girl who wrote Dark Angel. I love their writing style and would like to have a few tips from them and stuff!  
  
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The dark, stoic warrior stood motionless and silent under the shade of the tall tree, bored out of his wits and thinking over the things he could do to pass the time, which to him, had purposely slowed on that particular day just to rile him into making a fool of himself. His mind calculated on the matter, and sadly, he only came up with a small number of doable things, and he had already used up nearly all of them, but still the hours were "flying" by, and he speculated if anything could be so unbearably lengthy.  
  
Of course the first thing to come to his mind had been food. Kakarot and Kakarot's brat had arrived at the selected picnic grounds before he did, and a large portion of the food had disappeared into those bottomless pits, of Kakarot especially. This had made him considerably livid, but after a successful warning from the implausibly loud onna, he had enforced himself to live with what he had, so he ate as much as he was permitted to, and added on his mental agenda to seriously teach that aggravating low-class baka a lesson in not leaving his prince any food at occasions where he knew it was the only thing he looked forward to! Yes, saiyans did need to consume a large amount of food, but at least he knew when to stop!  
  
Then, he had meditated under the tree for a while, and then had recalled what had happened during the day earlier, replaying one of the verbal spars he had had with the woman that he particularly enjoyed. After that he had listed all the things he would do when the ridiculous get- together was over and finally done with, and next, made up a new training schedule. Basically he thought a lot--of anything possibly thinkable. The most important one was of excuses he could use to get out of being forced to attending any kind of human activities, and, he had actually found numerous ways to bale.  
  
He had never wanted anything to do with these humans; had never even wanted to go through with coming to their inferior planet. The only reason he had put up with it was to gain his wish of immortality with the Dragonballs and to train for the androids, and later defeat Kakarot and gain ultimate domination. That was all he cared for still, and he meant to keep it that way.  
  
No one knew how lucky they were that they still had Kakarot, or else he would have given in to his hatred and obliterated Earth, devoid of a second thought or shame, like he had done so many times before. He hated this planet in particular. Everything was such a huge coincidence. Or was it fate? No, he liked to believe it as one huge coincidence in life. He just couldn't bring himself to accept that he could have a part in some big plan to protect Earth and the fate of the universe. He didn't want to be a part in it. He didn't want to save anybody but himself, and be a ruthless and cold warrior without emotions or even a heart to speak of--no worries, no distractions, no weaknesses.  
  
Power was all that he wanted to grasp. With it he could rid himself of that peasant, that thief that had brought forth anger different from all that was in him. He wanted to feel himself above all, to look down on them with the knowledge that he was feared by every individual who lived in pure pain because of him. He wished to be confident in the fact that he was unbeatable, and would always get what he wanted. And when he died of old age, not a single being would forget the chaos he brought upon their worlds. He would live up to his royal birthright, and if he couldn't be ruler of the saiyans, he would rule it all, and so would those after him. He couldn't reach that destiny yet, so he believed in it, and until he did reach it he would keep believing it, never giving up, even if it took him his whole life to achieve it.  
  
It was in his incredibly hellish past that established that sadistic propulsion in his soul, making him a true destroyer, and if he ever changed and gave into life as a native, that evil would always be there haunting him, and laying forever dormant until it was somehow awakened.  
  
'Just like he wanted.'  
  
The usual frown on his strict face hardened more than it already was, and his hands balled into taut fists. He reluctantly relaxed. That was in the past, and as far as he was concerned, not much of the past mattered at that very moment. What was done was done. There was not much he could do to change it. All that was left was the effect it had on him, no matter how many times he thought of the past and what he wished he could have done to make things better for him. That particular subject had been on his mind in many forms and levels for twenty-five years. It was probably about time he let go. Some things needed to be forgotten.  
  
He exited himself from the black solitude in the recesses of his mind. Ignoring any further thoughts that posed a threat to his sanity, and he hoped he could control them, because he knew they were going to be there for the rest of his life no matter what he did. He was just going to have to learn how to ignore them.  
  
His ever obsidian eyes scanned his surroundings with ease, watching the normal chatter and laughter and sipping of beverages among the group of people.  
  
There were four chief groups that formed during these occasions. There was the perverted group consisting of Old Pervert, Weakling, and Pervert's Ham Sidekick. Then there was the freak group, with Kakarot, That Three-Eyed Freak, Gay Cat (Puar), Cue Ball, and Mime Boy (Chaut-zou). In the third "clique" were all the women of the Z Gang huddled together gossiping and laughing, and he would occasionally notice one of them pointing at someone and giggling like idiots. And then there was Nerd Boy and the Namek and some array of one of the more gentler animals of the planet.  
  
He had a name for all of them, all of those earthlings that he despised with an ardor he couldn't comprehend for some reason, and he didn't like not being able to comprehend something, and something so seemingly simple. They all were happy and loved and they loved back. They were all together, all worriless and filled with hopeless, silly dreams in their safe little world with its prettiness. It made him sick how these people were so feeble and always so, so damn jovial. It was the first time he had to interact with people who regarded him like one of their own, like he was one of them in their big, peaceful group. He detested them for that, and he didn't know why when they showed him respect. Just by treating him like another low class--them, was insolent to him, though.  
  
They feared him, of course. There was no doubt about it. He could practically see the fear undulating off of them in reeking waves, like sand on a windy day in the desert. They didn't know him. Nobody knew him. He didn't even think he knew himself all that much. None of those fools ever knew if he was going to regard an action or if he were going to snap all of the sudden, and then that would be the sweet end to them.  
  
But, then there was their savior, the planet's guardian and hero, their Goku, the worst screw-up of a Saiyan he had ever heard of. As far as Vegeta was concerned, he wasn't even the same race as he. It was hard for Vegeta to accept that kind being as the prideful and up-roaring Saiyans. He was so ashamed to be in debt to him. He wished instead that day that Kakarot had not saved his life, and just let him die in honor at least, than forever owe the one he loathed so greatly.  
  
He sneered and turned his hateful gaze away from the laughing baka at the table with his mouth stuffed with--something. He instead turned his eyes onto the table of females.  
  
All of them were good-looking and had a part in the Z Gang, but one of them stood out in particular to him. She wasn't as keyed up as the others, which surprised him a great deal. Usually she would be the most active and a joy to beheld whenever she was in the attention of others. She did all she could to be in everyone's good favors, and she was even the one to host this picnic, putting her back into making it pleasing. But there she was with her chin in her hand staring drowsily at something beyond the faces of the other women, who were rambling on and on like they would never stop, and they had the whole world to talk about the whole wide world.  
  
She looked -- what? Troubled? No, what could she have been troubled about? Her life was perfect! She was affluent, attractive, and intellectual, and every male on Earth seemed to want her. Every female wanted to be her. If no one could be either, then they sought to be around her. She had everything she treasured. She was a woman of authority, and was one of the few women who held so much unrestrained individual power.  
  
Then what was it?  
  
Vegeta narrowed his eyes a bit and studied the woman more scrupulously, which was something his body was well attuned to from experience over the years. She was in a daze, only nodding her head and smiling every now and then, showing a row of straight, white teeth, and when she nodded, her silken robin's-egg-blue tresses would slide like water from a fountain, and she would always take a hand and put them back into place, brushing along her delicate jaw line. When she smiled like that, the stray thought that she appeared to be an angel in that ray of sunshine smoking around her crossed his mind against his will.  
  
Shaking his head to rid himself of any unwanted thoughts, he persisted, but after further examination, he found nothing, and confirmed that something was on her mind, and she was in the same status as he was: bored to death. There was nothing to do. Was she doing the same as he? Evaluating all her options and then playing upon them?  
  
Vegeta saw her lips part and her chest heave outwards in a sigh, forcing her rich, creamy breasts to shove against the flimsy material of her low- cut, magenta halter top, and her naturally rosy pink lips to close in a sulk. He had an immediate intake of breath, but obligated himself to settle down once he realized his male body's natural intentions, since he didn't need them at the moment. She really was an alluring creature to get a reaction out of him. He'd seen many women that would have left other men begging to have them, and he could always ignore their brazen advancements and move on with what he was supposed to do, but, what was it that made this one little woman so fascinating to him?  
  
Yes, she was gorgeous. No, gorgeous was not the word. Stunning was more like it. When he first saw her he had been stunned by her beauty, which was probably why he had no intention of killing her, but just intimidating her.  
  
He didn't want to fall under some woman's spell like a few of the soldiers on Frieza's ship. The men who did never got lucky. If you worked for Frieza there was no love to be shown. It was beat out of you until you didn't even recognize the word much less the feeling. Although, the few that did were rid of in the most hurtful ways imaginable. Some would live on in shame and sadness if they were lucky, well, according to Vegeta. Might as well try to have a chance. As far as he was concerned, women were mainly useful for a fuck, and maybe some other things, but that was the sole intention. Get her pregnant with your child; let her raise it, you train it, and she provides you with whatever you desired. It was that simple.  
  
After a bit of pondering, Vegeta came to the conclusion that just because she was beautiful wouldn't have made him so curious about her, although it did make a difference. Perhaps it was her intelligence that impressed him.  
  
Earth was such a slow learner, and she had made these things that even he had never seen and was interested in using. Her gravity machine for example, was something he had never even heard of, and he had noticed over the months that his strength had improved remarkably.  
  
She was right all those times she stated she was a genius, even though he would never admit it to her. He could also be categorized as genius, just not that kind. His specialty was out on the battlefield. Nobody knew, but he had a talent for puzzles and tricky problems, which was probably why he had never been outsmarted.  
  
That blue-haired woman was the most rich and powerful person on that planet for her intelligence -- and her father, but still. What such a fragile and sexy woman could do was extraordinary to him. However, the prince once knew many incredibly smart people, so it must not have been her intelligence that he found so captivating. What was it? Oh, well. That was not of large concern to him.  
  
He turned his stare away from her, and closed his eyes a bit with his arms crossed comfortably over his burly chest. For a moment he opened the ebony orbs back up, and greeted glittering sapphire ones that stared right back at him, surprising him that she finally noticed he was there, but he watched back unaffected, and waited for her to look away. She didn't, but instead got up, never breaking the icy lock she had on him, or, he had on her, and stepped out of her seat. She turned away, headed towards the dark passage of thick, tall vegetation with calmness and knowingness.  
  
His eyes widened and a thick, dark brow cocked up. He searched for any sign that people realized she was gone and found none. What idiots! That kind of ignorance was going to get them all killed someday.  
  
He, though, was quite inquisitive to see what she had in mind. What was she searching for? Was she just trying to escape? It was what he'd wanted to do the whole time he was there, so taking the advantage of the moment, he quietly snuck in the direction she had taken. Like the onna, no one noticed his exit either, so he got away with ease, but his trained steps were loose and hushed so she could not detect his arrival.  
  
He stopped every so often to let her gain distance. While he was following her, he had gotten at a space to her where he thought she wouldn't be able to tell he was there, but she would turn around to investigate, and becoming more vigilant and slightly jumpy after that.  
  
She could have gone as far as one hundred miles away and he wouldn't lose track of her. His senses were much more advanced, so he was able to smell her scent and hear any sound or see a disturbance in the vegetation, could taste her on the leaves she brushed against. The wind was active and the temperature warm. It was to his advantage.  
  
He continued his journey along the winding paths, following her with anticipation, awaiting an end to her traveling, which, and he didn't know it, would lead to huge changes in his life, and in himself forever.  
  
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Bulma's POV coming up. 


End file.
